


A Dozen Reasons to Quit

by HeyMurphy



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Coughing, Fever, Hospitalization, M/M, Sickfic, Smoking, Vomiting, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 01:43:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16052846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyMurphy/pseuds/HeyMurphy
Summary: Gavin felt bad, sure, but he was always a little lowkey sick—the result of his shitty habits and haphazard sleep schedule. This was nothing new. Worse than usual, but fine. At least he wasn’t puking his guts out. He probably just needed a cigarette or two.





	A Dozen Reasons to Quit

**Author's Note:**

> This fic brought to you by me learning that pneumonia can present with vomiting. Sorry, Gavin...

“Detective Reed.”

Gavin struggled to lift his head from his hand. He blinked hard and moved the mouse to make it seem like he was still working, but fuck, all he wanted to do was fall asleep. After a quick clearing of his throat, he met his partner’s pale-eyed glare. “What? What’re you staring at?”

“You’re ill.”

“Pfft. No I’m not.”

“I can read your biometrics from here. Heart rate and blood pressure are both elevated. Your internal temperature has been rising since this morning and has currently reached one hundred and one exactly. You’ve had a persistent cough for hours and your lymph nodes are swollen.”

“Don’t scan my nodes, asshole. You’re sick.”

The android’s eyebrows lowered on his scowling face. “ _You’re_ sick. As I said, you’re running a fever.”

Gavin felt bad, sure, but he was always a little lowkey sick—the result of his shitty habits and haphazard sleep schedule. This was nothing new. Worse than usual, but fine. At least he wasn’t puking his guts out. He probably just needed a cigarette or two. “Fuck off, _Kay_.”

The RK900 visibly flinched and Gavin knew his bait had worked. “How often must I repeat myself? I neither want nor need you to name me.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re Kay now.”

“You’re the _only_ one who refers to me as such.” The android went quiet for a moment and if Gavin didn’t know any better he would’ve thought the prick was stewing. The LED at his temple spun an irritated yellow.

Gavin had decided on “Kay” after the very first time the RK900 had put his nose in the air and grimaced at the detective’s _mere suggestion_ that he required something as _human_ as a name. Of course Gavin would never tell him exactly where the name came from or why it occurred to him. He wasn’t stupid. That kinda shit would get him laughed at. But still, it was pretty funny to see the android get all bent out of shape about it.

“It’s not even a _name_ ,” Kay continued, to Gavin’s amusement, “it’s merely a letter present in my model type.”

“It’s a _real name_ , idiot. And like I said, if we’re gonna be partners I’m not using some dumb fucking robot numbers all the time.” Gavin gestured across the bullpen to Connor and Hank. “Connor’s got a real name.”

“All RK800 models are designated ‘Connor’, a name given to them by CyberLife in the interest of promoting human cooperation.”

“Well don’t you wanna do that too? Cooperate?”

Kay’s gray eyes narrowed. “I don’t need to cooperate with humans, Detective Reed. I simply need to do my job. And once again you’ve managed to derail the conversation.”

“I didn’t derail shit. You’re the one who started in on the name thing.”

“You called me ‘Kay’ just now specifically to deflect from the fact that I’ve exposed your illness and instructed you to go home.”

Gavin grit his teeth. Why did this dumb android always have to call him on his bullshit? “You can’t _instruct_ me to do anything. You’re not my superior officer, you’re a fucking coffee machine with an attitude problem.”

“Reed! RK900!”

Gavin spun his chair to face Fowler’s office and a twinge of nausea made him swallow reflexively. Oh, that wasn’t good at all. Yes, he definitely needed a cigarette.

Fowler stood at the top of the steps, arms folded. “I need you both to give Ben some backup at a scene on Orangelawn. I’ve already sent you the address.” He paused, his gaze lingering on Gavin. “And get some coffee in you, Reed. You look like shit. Dismissed.”

Kay stood, tugged at his waistcoat, and buttoned his suit jacket over it. The motherfucker dressed to the nines at all times, perfectly tailored, always in jet black everything. He adjusted his tie snug against the high club collar and peered down at Gavin, who hadn’t even attempted to move one muscle. “Well? Detective Reed? You may be ill, but it seems we have our orders.”

Gavin took a slow breath and pushed up from his chair, knees weak and joints sore. Suddenly he wished he had listened to Kay the first time he’d been told to go home. Now he had to head out into the cold to check on some goddamn murder. He stole a curious glance over at Connor and Hank who were chatting pleasantly and leaning over Hank’s phone together, smiling.

“Detective Reed,” Kay snapped.

“Coming,” he said, punctuating himself with barking cough. “ _Fuck_.”

 

* * *

 

They stopped on the way for coffee. Gavin had talked Kay into getting it for him, mostly as an excuse to smoke in the car while he waited for it, but the instant he tipped the cup to his lips he realized it wasn’t anything close to the mocha cappuccino with extra whip that he’d asked for.

“Herbal tea,” said Kay with an air of satisfaction. “You’re sick, after all.”

Gavin pulled a face. “Tastes like dirt. What’s even in this?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“Drink some and tell me, then.”

Kay plucked it from Gavin’s hands. “You’d allow me to drink from your cup?”

“What, am I gonna catch android cooties or something?” Gavin scoffed.

Kay took the slightest possible sip, just enough to wet the sensors on his tongue, and his LED blipped. “Peppermint. Lemongrass. Orange blossom. Hawthorn. Chamomile. Honey.”

“Yeah, dirt. Give it back.”

“So you liked it?”

“Stop talking. You’re giving me a headache.” Gavin definitely did not like it, but the warmth of it in his hands soothed his stiff fingers and it eased the pain in his throat and chest as he continued to drink. By the time Kay put the car in park just behind two other flashing police cruisers, Gavin was fighting to keep his eyes open. He just wanted to put the heat on full blast and curl up in the backseat.

Kay exited the vehicle. Gavin finished off the tea and followed, ducking under the police tape with a grunt of effort. Ben waved at them from the front door of the house. “Hey, thanks for coming, fellas.” He looked from Kay to Gavin and reared back a little. “Woah, you look worse than the guy in there, and he’s dead.”

Gavin scrunched up his nose and sniffled. “Fuck you. Who’s our vic?”

Ben flipped through his notebook. “Corey Jones. Thirty-nine-year-old white male. Red ice dealer.” He sighed like he was reading a list of chores and led them inside. A body lay slumped unceremoniously between the couch and a coffee table littered with ice paraphernalia, blood coagulated in his hair and on the carpet. Stuff like that quit bothering Gavin a long time ago, but for some reason he felt his stomach go sour at the sight. He wiped sweat from his brow as Ben kept talking. “Gunshot wound to the head. No forced entry. Looks like a deal gone bad.”

“Yes, this appears rather straightforward,” said Kay, walking through the messy living room with hands clasped behind his back. “Is there a reason Fowler requested three detectives at the scene?”

With a laugh, Ben slipped his notebook into his coat. “Oh yeah. You guys won’t believe how much red ice is in the basement. This is gonna be one of the biggests busts since Hank’s old task force. C’mon, come take a look before the coroner gets here.”

Ben and Kay descended a flight of steps into the basement but Gavin stood at the top. He pressed himself into the doorframe and swallowed, cold sweat on his neck and upper lip now. The thought of exerting the energy to go downstairs made his legs quake.

“Detective Reed,” Kay called up to him, “come see this.”

“I’m good,” Gavin shouted back, ending with a scratchy cough.

“That wasn’t a request.”

Gavin swore under his breath and dropped a foot to the first step. He gripped the railing as he slowly hobbled into the basement, and Kay’s disinterested stare met him at the bottom.

There was _so_ much fucking red ice. Tubs and tubs of ready-for-sale plastic baggies full of the stuff and dozens of open containers and digital scales and accounting books strewn across folding tables. Even through the congestion in his head, that tell-tale paint thinner odor reached into Gavin’s skull and squeezed his brain. He sniffed and rubbed his knuckles under his nose.

Kay’s LED flickered as he maneuvered between the tables and recorded footage of the finding for evidence. “There’s no trace of a lab. Whoever cooked this, it wasn’t our victim upstairs.” He picked up a small red crystal from one of the digital scales, crushed it in his fingers, and placed the resulting powder into his mouth. His LED went a hard yellow for a good few seconds. “This batch is structurally identical to red ice recovered from nine separate crime scenes in the past six months alone.”

Ben put his hands on his hips and whistled. He and Kay continued to speak about the case but Gavin stopped paying attention. The beginnings of a migraine stabbed behind his eyes. He was cold, hot, queasy. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to be upright. Maybe Kay was right and he actually _was_ sick.

“Detective Reed,” Kay said, waving him over to some books lying open.

Gavin lumbered towards the table where Kay stood and glanced down at the names and numbers scrawled in black pen. Ball-point. Running out of ink. He squinted and tried to read the writing without aggravating his headache, but no such luck. “Oh shit,” he said, leaning in closer, bracing his weight on the table. “He was selling this stuff in huge batches.”

“Seems that way,” said Kay. “And this name here on one of the more recent transactions.”

Gavin scrubbed at his eyes to make them behave. “It’s not, uh—” He swallowed back nausea. “Doesn’t look familiar.”

“This is one of the known aliases of the owner of the Eden Club, who also owns six other night clubs in Detroit.”

“That’s not good.”

“No, it’s not.”

A cold bead of sweat dropped from Gavin’s nose onto the page and he jerked his head up. “ _Damn_ it.” He dragged his coat sleeve across his face. Fuck, he was going to be sick. “I gotta—this smell—I’m going upstairs.”  

Kay nodded. “Please refrain from dribbling DNA anywhere else in the house, if you’d be so kind.”

Gavin didn’t even want to risk opening his mouth for a retort. He turned towards the stairs, but it was too late. His stomach dropped, saliva pooling on his tongue, and a shiver prickled over his scalp.

He took the stairs two at a time, unsure how he got the strength, but he made it through the back door and into the yard before vomiting into the dead grass. Up came the herbal tea and little else. It ran from his lips as he coughed and heaved, emptying himself entirely. He’d never hear the end of this from Ben. Damn it, the lieutenant would find out too, and he and Connor would just laugh it up.

Finally his body settled. He shook like an icehead, still sputtering out the last dregs of his stomach. His throat was raw and his eyeballs throbbed.

A hand lowered against his back, right between his shoulder blades, and rubbed. Felt nice.

“I’ve updated Captain Fowler,” said Kay. Of course it had to be Kay. “He suggested you remove yourself before further contamination of the scene can occur.”

Gavin spit at the grass. Wiped his chin. The hand at his back tensed but stayed.

“Given your current condition, I recommended to him that someone should escort you home. Captain Fowler then assigned me to the task. Lieutenant Anderson and the RK800 model will take our place in this investigation.”

Gavin shrugged the android’s hand off and stood as straight as he could muster. “What? No, no, this case is ours.”

“There will be other cases, and you’re in no shape to be here.”

“Fuck that.” Gavin’s vision swam and it was hard to keep from swaying. He lurched forward and grabbed Kay by the lapels of his suit jacket. Fucking android was so goddamn tall. “Anderson and his plastic pet aren’t gonna—they aren’t taking this.”

Kay snatched his wrists, pinching the bones hard enough to make a point but not enough to injure. “Detective Reed, you’re behaving foolishly. You now have a fever of over one hundred and two and you’ve just vomited at a crime scene. If you refuse to comply with Captain Fowler’s order, I will be forced to _make_ you comply.”

Gavin just sneered. The look on Kay’s face was unreadable but firm. “What’re you gonna do, huh? Throw me over your shoulder like a fucking sack of potatoes?”

“I thought a bridal carry might be kinder on your stomach.”

A flush of anger and embarrassment made Gavin’s head buzz. “F-Fuck you.” He was so unbelievably hot but the fingers curled in Kay’s lapels were icy and trembling. He gulped and it burned, peppermint and bile warring on the back of his tongue. It made him want to be sick again.

“Perhaps you prefer to walk?”

“Prick—fucking plastic— _mnh_ —” Gavin let his sweat-drenched forehead fall against Kay’s chest and coughed into the fabric. “—not even sure I can.” 

Kay slipped an arm around him as if it were the most casual action in the world. “I have you secured, Detective Reed. You won’t fall.”

Gavin sniffled. “Fine. Fuck. Let’s go already, then.”

The two of them shuffled back through the house and out the front. Ben was there speaking with a handful of officers and glanced up as they passed, chuckling. “I knew there was something wrong with him,” he said to Kay. “You getting the poor baby out of here?”

“Yes, I’m taking him to his apartment at the behest of Captain Fowler. Lieutenant Anderson and RK800 will arrive shortly.”

Ben waved them off. “All right. Hope Gavin doesn’t die.”

“Not on my watch,” answered Kay.

The fake leather upholstery in the back of the car was cool on his face and neck as Gavin sprawled across the seat. He groaned softly and nestled into it, muscles relaxing. Kay lingered by the open door.

“I must warn you that it isn’t safe to ride in a car in this fashion.”

“Shut up, it’s legal.”

Kay made a slight sound of disapproval but closed the door. He slid into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and the car pulled away from the curb.

 

* * *

 

Gavin woke with a jolt of adrenaline and immediately knew something was off. He felt like absolute shit. His throat ached, congestion kept him from breathing properly, and he was so weak he could barely lift his head from the throw pillow.

The throw pillow?

That’s what was off. He was home, and he had no memory of getting there.

The living room was dark but the light from the kitchen washed everything in a cool, quiet glow, though it was still just enough light to make Gavin’s head pound. His mounting migraine hadn’t abated in the least. His teeth felt cold and on edge with every wheezing inhale. God, he was going to die, wasn’t he. He shifted and tried to pull the blanket closer to his chin.

Oh. It wasn’t a blanket.

It was a black suit jacket.

Right, Kay brought him home.

Dress shoes clacked against the linoleum in the kitchen and shortly after a voice beside the sofa said, “Detective Reed, you need to take this medication.”

Wait, wait. Kay brought him home _and_ _stayed_?

Gavin opened his eyes the rest of the way.

Kay always looked imposing but this took the cake, looming in the darkness with the pale fluorescence kissing every mathematically perfect angle. He set a glass of water and a bottle of Motrin on the coffee table. Gavin scooched up on the pillow a bit. “How long—” A coughing fit seized him low around the ribs, muscles in his chest constricting like a snake. “ _Fuck_ , that hurts. H-How long was I out?”

“One hour and eighteen minutes, though we only arrived here twelve minutes ago. Evening traffic through downtown made the commute to your apartment rather tedious.”

“I slept through the whole car ride?”

“Yes.”

Gavin didn’t remember anything past lying down in the backseat. He was a pretty deep sleeper when he actually slept, but there was no way he’d forget walking from the parking lot up to his place. Unless—oh no.

“Did—did you _carry_ me up here?”

“You proved impossible to rouse. I had no choice.” Kay stepped away from the sofa and returned to the kitchen. “Take that medication. Your fever needs to come down immediately.”

Gavin struggled to sit upright and leaned over to snatch the pill bottle. He opened it, dumped a few out, swallowed them. The water soothed his dry mouth and washed out the taste of stale vomit, and even though it hurt like a bitch he forced himself to drink all of it.

He held the cool glass to his brow and sighed. Kay had carried him. Fuck. Humiliation and self-loathing burned in his chest. His neighbors probably saw it too. He’d never live this down. He reached for his back pocket but didn’t feel the pack of cigarettes. Maybe they fell out in the parking garage. _Fuck_.

The toaster popped, pantry door opened and closed. A plate rattled on the counter. The silverware drawer pulled out with a collection of clinks, each noise a needle in Gavin’s head.

“What the hell’re you doing over there?” he asked.

“I’m preparing some food. I never saw you take lunch today. You cannot expect to get well if you starve yourself.”

Gavin moaned at the thought of food. It was true, he didn’t have lunch. Or breakfast. Or dinner the night before. It was tough to care about food when he felt sick. Everything involved in the process of eating meant expending energy. “It’s just gonna come back up,” he grumbled.

Kay approached again, this time holding out a small plate. “Which is why I made you white toast with a negligible amount of butter. I’m optimistic it will not upset your stomach.”

Gavin stared at the toast and and grabbed for it, throat tight.

“You’ve finished your water. Good.” Kay took the glass into the kitchen, refilled it, placed it on the coffee table again. “Drink this as well. It’s important to remain hydrated.”

“Why’re you doing this?” Gavin asked. “I never asked for some fucking android’s fake pity.”

“You’re my partner,” Kay answered. “I would prefer you to be healthy and capable of performing your duties.”

Gavin put the corner of a toast triangle into his mouth and chewed, eyes lowered to the plate. “Thought you didn’t need to cooperate with humans. You could do your job just fine without me there.”

“I could, yes.”

Oh this fucking _prick_.

Gavin inhaled to start arguing and choked on his toast. _Really_ choked, coughing up crumbs until his eyes watered and spilled over. Kay patted his back between his shoulder blades and then kept his hand pressed there just like before. Gavin struggled to catch his breath and smeared away fat tears. He dropped the toast, pushing the heels of his palms into his cheek bones. The migraine was a knife in his skull now, wedged right above his left eye.

He tried to curse but it came out like a sob.

Kay slid his hand up to rest at the nape of Gavin’s neck. “I should take you to the emergency room.”

“No,” Gavin said, hating the whimper in his voice. “No, I’m okay. Really. Just—just go. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“That’s true. You need a nurse. Your fever registers in my software as a medical emergency and your cough is very worrisome.”

Gavin just continued to sniffle.

“Here. Drink.” Kay passed him the glass of water and Gavin drank a slow sip. “Try to eat more of the toast if you can.”

“I can’t.”

“ _Try_. Or you’re going to the hospital.”

“Fine.” He munched quietly under Kay’s careful observation, forcing the last bite down and finishing the water with a wet cough. Kay still hadn’t moved the hand from his neck, and the fingers flexed over his skin. They felt like real fingers, just softer and vaguely cool. Gavin shivered beneath the touch and wished he could blame it entirely on the fever.

“You need sleep,” said Kay. “I will remain here tonight.”

Gavin’s shoulders hunched in suspicion. “Here? _Why_? What for?”

Kay raised an eyebrow. “I thought I might rifle through your belongings, for starters. Peruse the files on your computer.” The corner of his mouth perked up in a wry grin. “Please, Detective Reed, have some sense. I have no desire to invade your privacy. I will be monitoring your vital signs and little else.”

Gavin shoved his empty water glass at Kay. “Okay, smartass. Get me to bed, then. I’m not gonna sleep on the couch all night.”

“Would you like for me to carry you again? It was quite efficient last time.”

“Fuck no.”

“Very well.”

Kay helped him up off the sofa, one of Gavin’s arms draped across his shoulders. They wobbled towards the bedroom but Gavin gripped the doorframe before they could enter. “Hey, hey. I don’t need you all up in my room. I can make it just fine from here.”

“I very much doubt that, but you’re welcome to try.”

“And you’re welcome to kiss my ass.” Gavin pushed away from him and tumbled with an off-balance stagger in the general direction of the bed. He hit the edge of the mattress and flopped over, victorious.

“I see you have it handled, then,” said Kay, and he shut off the light.

Gavin crawled up onto the bed. When he peered back at the door, Kay was gone. That was fine. He didn’t need to be tucked in like a fucking baby or anything. He grunted as he squirmed on top of the mattress, wrestling with his boots to get them off. When he finally kicked them to the floor he worked his legs under the duvet, scrambling and pulling to get comfortable and warm beneath the blankets. His whole body ached like a bruise, his pulse beating too hard, lungs itchy. The clock read 8:20PM in neon green numbers. Gavin couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to bed this early.

He rolled onto his belly and breathed deeply into the pillows, willing sleep to just overtake him already so he could get rid of this bug. Instead, he found himself staring at the empty doorway and fighting off another coughing fit.

Kay wasn’t even going to say goodnight?

Gavin scolded himself. The fever was making him emotional. When he woke up, everything would be back to normal.

He closed his eyes.

 

* * *

 

“Detective _Reed_.”

Gavin gasped himself awake. He’d been dreaming. He couldn’t remember what about, but his heart hammered in his chest as if he were running. The clock read 11:55PM. Not even midnight yet. “God,” he croaked, “oh, god. What the fuck is it?”

Kay stared down at him, his LED a placid gleam in the darkness. “You were crying in your sleep, Detective Reed. I thought it best to wake you.”

Gavin sniffled, panicked, and scrubbed at his wet face. “M’not crying, asshole.” He coughed into the pillow, stomach clenching. Fresh pain cracked through his ribs and wrenched a wail from his splintered throat. A sudden wave of nausea crested and hung there in limbo between his eyes.

Fuck, nothing was back to normal. He felt worse. And sweaty. Shit, his clothes were drenched.

“It’s all right.” Fingers brushed the nape of Gavin’s neck and raked gently up into his damp hair. He froze like some stray dog being pet for the first time.

“Hey—”  

“A gesture like this is meant to soothe, I believe,” said Kay simply. “Is it working?”

No one had ever touched Gavin this way before. His eyes rolled back a little before he could contain himself and slowly, cautiously, he melted under Kay’s hand. “Y-Yeah.”

“Good.” The mattress dipped as Kay sat at the edge, still scratching idly at Gavin’s hair. “Your fever broke for a short time and caused you to sweat, but it’s since returned to its previous elevation. I imagine you must be in extreme discomfort and would like to change your clothes.”

Gavin sniffled and made a soft sound of satisfaction. His heartbeat finally leveled out. He didn’t want Kay to stop. As embarrassing as his reaction was, it felt nice, _really_ nice, and it would probably never happen again once he recovered and Kay no longer pitied him. No one ever got this close to Gavin willingly, which usually was exactly how he liked it. Life was so much easier when people didn’t care about him or what he did. Having his own space was worth a pang of loneliness every now and then. It was fine.

Totally fine.

“Yeah,” Gavin said at last, “I’ll change.”

The minute the air conditioning hit his bare chest, though, he seized up with a bout of shivers. Kay had already laid out some fresh clothes at the foot of the bed—a DPD tee, pajama pants, and boxer briefs.

“Thought you said you weren’t gonna snoop through my stuff.”

Kay huffed out a slight sound of annoyance. “The situation called for me to—”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up.” Gavin laughed a little, coughed more, and waved a hand to shoo him. “I’m fucking with you, dude. Now get the hell outta my room unless you wanna see my dick ‘cause these jeans are coming off.”

Kay still looked irritated but made no effort to move. “Why would you assume I’d be bothered by the sight of your penis? We both have one. It’s nothing new to me, I assure you.” He folded his arms across his chest. “You’re just wasting time that you should be using to rest. Or do you require my help?”

Gavin stood meekly, hands at the button of his jeans. Was it just his fevered imagination, or did Kay just admit to having a dick? He’d always just assumed the non-sex model androids were built like big Barbie dolls. Had Kay gotten himself some kinda upgrade? Why would he need that? Why would he _want_ that? His eyes strayed to Kay’s slacks. He decided to bury this information away somewhere where he could never access it again, lest it get him in trouble. He did _not_ want to think about an android like that.

“No,” he finally replied, “I can dress myself, thanks.”

And he did, albeit very slowly to keep the nausea at bay. Kay graciously focused on other things as Gavin wriggled out of his pants and underwear. He didn’t mind being naked in front of men—quite the opposite, actually. Some of his favorite memories were spent naked with men. It felt different with Kay, though. Uncomfortable. Like he’d be judged. Then again he always felt judged by Kay.

Gavin left his old clothes on the floor and eased gingerly back into bed. The second his head hit the pillow Kay was there to tuck him in properly.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I need a fucking cigarette.”

Kay’s LED blinked yellow. “I’ve sent a message to Captain Fowler informing him that you will be staying home from work tomorrow and will not be returning until your fever is down for twenty-four hours.”

“Jesus. Okay, fine.” Gavin should’ve been furious that Kay would do something like that without his permission, but instead he realized that, to his great upset, he kind of liked it. It didn’t entirely suck to be taken care of, he had to admit. Especially when his caretaker was so—so—

“Detective Reed,” said Kay, eyebrows pinching in ever so slightly, “your pupils have dilated significantly and your breathing has accelerated. Are you going to be sick again?”

“No,” said Gavin and averted his eyes. He shifted onto his stomach again to get more comfortable. “Now shut the fuck up and let me go back to sleep already. If I even can.”

Kay went silent, LED spinning, and then said, “Perhaps I can help.”

Those fingers found their way into Gavin’s hair again, nails dragging across his scalp. Gavin shuddered. He was pushing half mast against the soft material of his boxer briefs and he hoped to fucking god Kay didn’t notice. Jesus, though, had it really been so long since he’d been touched like this? Maybe he could just breathe through it and focus on something else.

It didn’t work. Kay’s fingers felt too nice. Maybe, Gavin thought, it might also be nice to feel them elsewhere. Creeping down his sides, across his hips and thighs. Gripping him. Stroking him—

 _Christ_. This needed to stop.

Just as he decided he had to say something, the nausea rose up with a vengeance and refused to be ignored. He swallowed, trying to close his eyes and will away the unwelcome sensation, but it pulled at the pit of his stomach and soured the saliva in his mouth. He was going to be sick again.

Kay knew without him having to say. He helped Gavin across the hall and into the bathroom just in time for Gavin to collapse in front of the toilet and retch like a freshman pledge. He emptied his stomach and knelt there, dry heaving, for what felt like minutes. Kay reached over his shoulder and flushed the bowl for him.

“This fucking— _hggh_ —I _hate_ this—”  

The last heave nearly forced up his goddamn guts. Once it was over Gavin slumped against the tub, panting and trembling and coughing, certain he had started crying again at some point during the ordeal. Kay shushed him and smoothed back the wet hair from his fevered brow. “Deep breaths,” he said. “It’s all right.”

“It’s not,” Gavin snapped, rearing back from Kay’s hand. “It’s not all—I-I fucking feel like _shit_ and you keep fucking _touching_ me, just—god, fuck off already.” He sniffled and cleared his throat, attempting to keep his jaw squared when all it wanted to do was quiver. He felt like a child and Kay was _still fucking there_. He never wanted anyone seeing him like this, especially not the android. The shame was too much to bear and it churned ugly in his belly worse than the nausea, bubbling up in his throat until it forced its way out. “I said _FUCK OFF_.”

Kay’s LED went red. He stood without a word, smoothed down the buttons of his waistcoat, and left the bathroom.

Gavin’s heart sank. “Wait.”

No response.

“Wait.” Gavin braced his arm on the tub and struggled to his feet. His bones wanted to shake apart. “Kay, wait.” He threw himself at the counter and found purchase on the sink, grappling across the linoleum with the last of his strength. “Kay—”

His legs gave out in the hallway, but he didn’t hit the floor.

 

* * *

 

Gavin came around in his bed to the familiar feeling of frozen peas against his cheekbone. He sighed, exhausted, and leaned into it. Kay sat on the side of the mattress. There was no softness in his face, no give, and the gray of his irises flashed like stainless steel. Jesus, Gavin must have really pissed him off bad.

“Thought you actually fucked off for a second there,” said Gavin with a weak laugh. The muscles in his torso were sore and tight.

Kay adjusted the bag of peas to the other eye. “I did not take your tantrum personally.”

“But you left.”

“To find you a cold compress. The force of your vomiting broke the capillaries in the skin around your eyes.”

“But I made your light go red.”

Kay’s mouth pinched. “Yes,” he said carefully. “You were clearly distressed, which caused you to lash out. I was concerned.”

Gavin laughed harder and his lungs rattled until he had to cough. “What the fuck ever. It’s totally fine, y’know, you can just say you hate me. You’d be in good company.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“You’re such a liar.”

Kay’s LED went red again, just for a second this time. “Not _once_ have I ever been dishonest with you, Detective Reed. I want to make that clear.”

An earlier conversation replayed in Gavin’s head and he flinched away from the frozen peas. “So you admit it, then,” he said, voice small. “You really _could_ do your job just fine without me there.”

Kay tilted his chin up. “Of course,” he replied, as if the question were completely asinine. He took Gavin’s jaw in a firm grip and readministered the peas. His eyes were sharp and focused, their faces close in the dark. “In fact, without your presence I could most likely be three times as productive.”

Hearing it so plainly actually kind of hurt.

“However,” said Kay, “I find that having you around is much more enjoyable than the alternative.”

Gavin swallowed, eyes suddenly stinging. Since the beginning he’d been operating under the assumption that Kay didn’t like him. That was their dynamic—partners who hated each other. That’s how it worked. Gavin had been playing the asshole against Kay’s clear disdain. They were like movie cops or something. They had _banter_ , for fuck’s sake.

“So wait, no, you—you’re saying you _like_ being my partner?”   

The edges of Kay’s expression smoothed and his fingers relaxed on Gavin’s jaw. “I should certainly hope so,” he said. “I chose you specifically after a period of observation, overlooking four other detectives who asked Captain Fowler to assign me to them. Ben Collins included.”

“Collins?” Gavin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You idiot, he’s got the most consistent arrest record outta everyone. You two would’ve mopped up. The fuck’s wrong with you?”

“I must not be explaining myself properly.” Kay set the peas down so he could take Gavin’s flushed face in both hands. “Listen to me. I was built for conflict resolution,” he clarified. “Performing tasks easily at peak efficiency is perfectly acceptable, but overcoming challenges as I work is intensely satisfying. And as you are my greatest challenge day in and day out, Detective Reed, it stands to reason that I also find _you_ intensely satisfying.”

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Gavin went stupid. He couldn’t handle this right now. His vision blurred and he slumped forward, letting Kay’s hands gently direct his head to the android’s solid shoulder. “You dumb fucking prick,” he said, a whisper of disbelief into the black fabric. “Could’a been with Collins.”

Kay shushed him and combed fingers through his hair. They sat like that for a while in the bedroom, the blue LED a steady comfort. It was weird to think that anything about androids could be comforting, but apparently Gavin was figuring out a lot of new stuff lately.

He had just started to nod off, his face in the crook of Kay’s neck, when he saw a flash of yellow through his eyelids. Kay stiffened. “That’s our cue,” he said. “It’s time to go, Detective Reed.”

“Go? Where?”

“I placed your name on a waiting list for the emergency room at Henry Ford. I have just been notified that they will see you in twenty minutes.”

Gavin groaned. “You’re taking me to the hospital? Traitor.”

“Come on,” said Kay, practically peeling Gavin from his shoulder. “I’ll carry you down.”

“Don’t you dare.”

   

* * *

 

“You can wipe that fucking smirk off your rat’s nest, Anderson.”

Hank snickered until Connor gave him an exasperated glare. The two of them had stopped by the hospital after their shift ended. Gavin had hoped no one from work would find out, but Kay must have let it slip to Connor, and Connor of course told Hank everything. Insufferable bastards.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” said Hank, downgrading his smirk to a grin. “I’m just used to seeing you in here because you got your ass kicked by a _person_ , not a virus.”

“Fuck you.” Gavin clenched his fists in the blanket and felt the needle pinch at the bend in his arm. Since he hadn’t been able to keep much of anything down, the nurses had strung him up with an IV for fluids and antibiotics.

Every hour one of the nurses came and harassed him into taking a few deep breaths, which they said was supposed to do something to help his lungs, but only caused him to cough each time until he was purple in the face. He couldn’t even have a cigarette outside. Fucking smoke-free hospital.

And where the hell was Kay? Was he just not going to show up? Not that Gavin cared necessarily, but if Hank and Connor made the trip he figured his partner would as well. “So, uh, you guys took that murder from us yesterday,” he said. He needed a distraction. Might as well talk about work. “Anything happen with that?”

“Oh,” said Connor simply, “it’s closed.”

“What the fuck?”

“Yeah,” Hank chimed in. “Funniest damn thing. I swear Connor gets every case where the guy’s still in the house.”

Gavin could’ve strangled both of their smug asses. “He was inside the whole time? Where?”

“Hiding in the cupboard under the kitchen sink, waiting for the cops to leave like he was Charlie fucking Manson or something,” Hank said with a proud look to his partner.

Connor beamed back at the lieutenant and laced their fingers together. God, they were disgusting in public. At least at the precinct they kept it in their pants.

Gavin shifted on the hard hospital mattress, uncomfortable in every way imaginable, and took a labored breath in through the oxygen tube under his nose. “And what about the red ice in the basement? Do we know who made it yet?”

“Still working on that,” said Hank. “We’ve got some leads, though. We’ll update you when you’re back if it’s still ongoing by then.”

Gavin nodded. Great. Seemed work talk was over. So much for the distraction.

Connor, like a mind reader, leaned in a little. “He should be coming soon, by the way.”

“Whatever,” said Gavin, hopefully not too quickly. “He saw me last night. He doesn’t need to see me again.”

“No, I don’t,” said Kay. He stood just inside the room, shoulders filling out the door frame. He carried two reusable shopping bags in one hand and a small vase of orchids in the other. “But I certainly would like to.”

Gavin bit the inside of his cheek. He was _not_ going to blush.

Kay set the flowers on the table by the bed and Hank and Connor had the decency to say their goodbyes and leave. Things were already awkward enough with Kay. Gavin didn’t need an audience.

“You look better,” said Kay. “Your color is improved, at least. Have they fed you?”

“Applesauce. Didn’t touch it, though. I’m not a baby.”

Kay took note of the IV drip and ran his fingers across the tape keeping the needle in place. “I suppose you’re in no danger as long as you’re receiving fluids.” He spared a glance around the room. “The lieutenant and RK800 did not bring you flowers. I thought flowers were customary for hospital visitation.”

“If Anderson and his fucking fleshlight had brought me flowers, I’d’ve died from embarrassment and you’d be visiting me in the morgue.”

A frown dampened Kay’s face. “You seem in an exceptionally foul mood.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Gavin scrunched his eyes shut and exhaled as he attempted to chill. Last thing he wanted to do was say the wrong thing and make Kay decide to go. “No one’s letting me have a fucking smoke and I wanna scream. It’s not ‘cause of you.”

“I didn’t think it was,” said Kay, and he began to unload items onto the table. Judging from the shopping bag, Gavin had assumed there would be food inside, even though he had no appetite, but instead he realized Kay had brought him things he already owned—his toothbrush, comb, deodorant, shampoo, razor and shaving cream, a few changes of underwear neatly rolled, shirts and pajama pants and socks.

“What the hell? You got into my apartment without me?”

“It was easy enough once I showed my badge to your landlord and explained the situation,” said Kay briskly, and he placed the clothes in a dresser drawer and took the toiletries to the adjoining restroom. “In related news, Mr. Murati wishes for me to relay that he hopes your recovery is swift.”

Gavin grumbled. Was everyone and their fucking dog gonna find out he was in the hospital? “Please tell me there’s cigarettes in that bag. I’ll even take menthols, I don’t give a shit.”

Kay fixed him with a concerned stare as he lowered himself into one of the bedside chairs. “You’ve been diagnosed with pneumonia, Detective Reed. You’ll be in the hospital for at least the next three days if not longer due to your impaired lung capacity. You might take this opportunity to go ‘cold turkey’.”

“Get off my nuts,” Gavin hissed. “You sound like those nosy nurses I gotta deal with.” If he had to listen to one more fucking lecture from Kay or anyone else about his smoking he was going to fight someone, and just breathing was hard enough of a task at the moment.

“Well, I brought a few books from your apartment,” Kay offered, rustling in the second bag. “I thought perhaps time might pass more pleasantly with something to read.”

Gavin sat up a little straighter, hair on the back of his neck bristling. “What’d you get?” he asked.

“Let me see here. A couple by Neil Gaiman, some Clive Barker, Joe Hill—you own a startling amount of fantasy, I must say—ah, and then there’s this one.”

Kay patted the torn orange cover of T. H. White’s _The Once and Future King_ and thumbed at the earmarked pages. He was smiling. Not his typical slinky grin, either. No, this was something genuine, something that stuck the air in Gavin’s throat and made him cough it up until he saw stars.

Kay knew. God _damn_ it.

Gavin’s mouth went dry as he caught his breath. Of course Kay had to fucking grab _that_ book. “Look, it’s not—don’t read too much into it.”

“An interesting choice of phrase, as I needn’t have read any farther than the first paragraph.” Kay cracked the book open and held it aloft like a thespian. “‘Kay was not called anything but Kay, as he was too dignified to have a nickname and would have flown into a passion if anybody had tried to give him one.’” He clapped it shut. “I must admit, I quite like this Sir Kay.”

“Ugh, shut _up_.” Gavin wanted to rip the IV from his arm and bolt from the room. His skin was white hot, burning past the point of fever. “You weren’t supposed to find out.”

“You named me after a character from Arthurian legend,” said Kay. “I’m impressed at you. You truly didn’t want me to know the origin of my name?”

“It’s not your name,” said Gavin, maybe a little too harshly. He wished he could disappear into the bed and die, just get sucked down completely like Johnny Depp in the first Freddy movie. Anything was better than this. “It’s just what I call you, all right? You said it yourself, it’s not even a real name anyway.”

“Well,” said Kay, “perhaps I’ve decided it’s not so unpleasant to be named by someone I care for.”

Gavin stared pointedly at the crack in the curtains where the sun was going down, knowing, just _knowing_ , he was beet red. “Whatever.”

Kay’s gray eyes were warm, amusement still evident behind them. “I’ve embarrassed you. I apologize.” He placed the book on the stack with the others. “I promise not to disclose the origin of my name to our coworkers at the precinct. This revelation of your sentimental nature will remain safe with me.”

“Can you just talk normal for one goddamn minute. Say something like _I’d_ say it.”

Kay heaved an exaggerated sigh and straightened his tie. “If it would improve your disposition, then fine, I swear to god I won’t tell anyone you’re a _fucking nerd_.”

Gavin snorted a weak laugh, letting his head flop back on the pillows as he coughed some more and held his bruised ribs. His chest creaked and ached as if someone had used his body to break in their new boxing gloves. “Jesus— _nnhg_ —you picked the shittiest time to start being funny.”

“I’m sorry,” Kay said, rising to his feet. “You’re very unwell and I’m only making things worse. I should let you rest.”

“No, no—” Gavin reached out for his partner’s wrist. “You don’t have to go. C’mon, I’m not even all that sick anymore.”

Kay cradled Gavin’s arm, being mindful of the IV, and nestled it back onto the bed. “You’re a poor liar. You still have a fever and your cough is worse than yesterday. If you sleep, I promise to come see you again tomorrow.” He gathered the blankets up to Gavin’s shoulders and adjusted the pillows to make lying horizontal more comfortable.

A brief panic welled up in Gavin’s throat. He didn’t want Kay to leave yet, and he had a very real fear that if he had to watch Kay walk through that door he would miss him terribly. “Kay—”

“And if you swear to me that you will attempt to eat something in my absence,” said Kay, “I will visit in the morning before work as well. How does that sound?”

“You gonna bring me cigarettes?”

“Absolutely not.”

Gavin wondered if he could pull off puppy dog eyes half as effectively as Connor, though maybe it was best not to try.

 

* * *

 

Gavin suffered through four hours of broken, listless sleep, woke up for good before the sun was up, ate one piece of white toast at breakfast and two jellos, a lime and a cherry, and Kay made good on his promise to visit before work. A vase of colorful carnations joined the orchids on the table, though Gavin pointed out, perhaps a little tactlessly, that flowers weren’t necessary each time. Kay had actually seemed embarrassed to have this pointed out to him, his eyes darting to the flowers during each lull in their conversation.

After Kay left for the precinct, a nurse arrived and hooked Gavin up for another round of antibiotics. The medicine made him nauseous and sleepy, and this time the sleepiness won out. He took a nap for an hour, asked for ice chips, and then grabbed one of the books Kay brought.

 _The Once and Future King_ was just one of those stories. He couldn’t explain it. He read it at just the right time in his childhood that it stuck with him forever, and after a year or two he always found himself itching to read it all over again. This particular well-loved copy was his third.

He read peacefully, crunching on ice, drifting in and out of sleep, and missed his partner.

Kay was right—he _was_ a fucking nerd.

When six o’clock turned into seven, then eight, Gavin started getting anxious. He picked up his phone, fully intent on texting Hank to ask about Kay, and then realized how pathetic he was being.

But Kay had promised.

Visiting hours ended and Gavin thrummed in the night with nervous energy. He got up to piss, pulling the oxygen tube off his face and wheeling the IV stand into the bathroom. His thighs trembled and his coughing hadn’t improved. A moment later one of the nurses came to take his vitals and found him leaning weakly against the sink. “Back to bed with you now, Mr. Reed.”

He allowed her help, and as she drew the blankets around his middle he closed his eyes and pretended it was Kay.

He fell asleep again.

Hospital dreams were the worst. Nonsensical, fucked up, a string of incoherent scenes barely tied together in his brain. Between each one, Gavin would slip back into consciousness long enough to feel himself toss to the other side of the bed, and then the cycle would repeat. He was right in the middle of getting himself hopelessly lost in a series of underwater caves, his air running out, when he shuddered awake to the feeling of a hand on his forehead. He gasped, delirious, “Kay?”

The blue LED gave him away. “Apologies for the late hour, Detective Reed.”

“But it’s past visiting hours, h-how—”

“I may have abused my badge and intimidated the front desk receptionist into allowing my entry.” Kay smeared away a droplet of sweat from Gavin’s temple and for a thrilling second Gavin thought he might test it on his tongue. “It’s been a difficult day. I’m afraid I’m somewhat out of sorts.”

Gavin sighed and his body relaxed into the mattress. “What happened?”

“Captain Fowler reinstated me on the red ice bust, and I was able to discern the identity of the manufacturer,” said Kay, sitting down beside the bed. He did seem tired. Androids didn’t get tired, though, right? “A small force of us attempted to apprehend the suspect at his home in the south side, but he set fire to his laboratory and shot at us through the chemical smoke. He died on the scene.”

“Shit,” said Gavin. He hadn’t seen action like that in a while now. “Everyone okay?”

“Oh, yes. I was shot, though it’s nothing very—”

“ _Shot_?” Gavin pushed himself up on shaky arms and coughed a little. “Kay, what the fuck!”

“Shh, shh.” Kay eased him back down, gentle hands pressing carefully on his chest. “Please, don’t strain yourself. It wasn’t anything serious. I’m functional. My circulatory tubing was cauterized to prevent further leaking for now. I’m due for repairs first thing in the morning.”

Gavin groaned. This was bullshit. It was all his fault. If he hadn’t been so sick, if he had been at work instead of lying in the hospital like a fucking loser, he could’ve protected Kay the way a partner was meant to.

“Show me,” he said, voice choking up.

“Detective Reed, I didn’t mean to cause you—”

“Show me you’re okay.” Gavin took a trembling breath. “Please.”

For a moment Kay didn’t move, and then the LED went yellow and stayed yellow as he pulled his tie free and began to unfasten his waistcoat. His fingers made quick work of the small onyx buttons and soon the waistcoat and dress shirt parted to reveal a hairless expanse of pale synthskin. Gavin gulped, unable to tear his eyes from the way Kay’s chest and stomach glowed in the dim lighting of the hospital room.

“Here,” said Kay, pulling aside his clothing more to the right. The synthskin had retreated around a palm-sized area over his ribs, exposing the stark white polycarbonate chassis underneath. Whoever had cauterized the tubing inside had also melted the bullet hole shut, albeit crudely. The plastic looked smeared and uneven, which was probably why the synthskin wouldn’t close up over it.

“Fucking Jesus,” Gavin sighed. It was an awful sight. “It doesn’t hurt though, right?”

“That’s right.” Kay gave him a slight grin. “The errors are troublesome, but nothing I can’t deal with until the morning.”

A yawn crept unwittingly up Gavin’s spine and he smothered it into his fist, hoping Kay wouldn’t think he had bored him.

“Oh, I’m keeping you awake,” said Kay. “You need your rest.”

“No, no—” The yawn returned and forced Gavin’s jaw open. His lungs felt heavy and thick, like inhaling soup, and the deep breath triggered another wrenching bout of coughs. He jerked forward off the pillow, muffling the horrible sounds into the blankets. His core muscles ached so badly he wanted to cry out. “ _Fuck_ , I can’t—Kay—”

Kay put an arm around him, weight sinking onto the side of the mattress. He kept him upright through the fit and shushed him and spoke soothingly until all Gavin could do was collapse against him, boneless and shivering.

“I’ll get a nurse.”

“No,” Gavin said. He gathered the buttons of Kay’s dress shirt into a feeble fist. “No, you fucker, you’re gonna stay with me.”

Kay stayed.

They sat together for a few minutes until Gavin recovered. He moaned and held his ribs and Kay rubbed wide circles across his back. Everything hurt. Tears brimmed along his eyelids and he knew with absolute certainty that he must be the most pathetic man in Detroit. “I’m sorry, Kay.” He gulped, throat tight. “I should’ve been there.”

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for, Detective Reed.”

“But I do, I—I’m not good with partners, y’know.” Gavin sniffled and pawed at his eyes. “My last three didn’t make it two weeks. Assholes begged Fowler to transfer them. And I’m not fucking stupid, I know what I’m like. I get it.”

Kay listened, staring intently, his LED circling to red every time Gavin’s voice broke.

“And then you tell me you _picked_ me. On _purpose_. And I—” His breath seized and he realized with sick dread that if he kept talking he was actually going to start crying. “I-I couldn’t even fucking _be there_ when you needed me. You might’ve— _fuck_ , Kay, you really might’ve—” His words stretched and strained into unintelligible sounds until finally he dropped his head into his hands and sobbed.

Kay was talking but Gavin couldn’t hear over his own misery. His heart clenched, pounding in his fucking teeth, but he couldn’t stop himself.

He felt fingers comb into his hair, and then, delicately, Kay gathered him into his arms.

Gavin clutched at him and cried harder until his throat burned and his stomach cramped. He finally quieted minutes later, panting and coughing, drained and humiliated, and that’s when Kay pressed a kiss to the top of his head and said, “Sleep now. I’ll watch over you until the morning.”

Safe in Kay’s embrace, Gavin soon drifted off, and he slept straight through the night.

 

* * *

 

The lighter fumbled in Gavin’s hands. He held the cigarette steady between his lips and curled his fingers to protect the flame from the biting morning chill.

A week in the hospital and he was already out of practice. Or maybe he was still a little frail. He’d lost almost eight pounds and he still wasn’t fucking with anything more substantial than a chunky soup, though if he was fit to leave the hospital he figured he was fit to go back to work. Going in ass-early wasn’t his usual scene but he’d been eager to swing by the corner store for a fresh pack and enjoy his first cigarette in six days.

Kay watched, steel-eyed, from the passenger seat of the car. He had picked up Gavin from the hospital yesterday evening and spent the night. Gavin was trying not to think about what that meant exactly. Kay had been his only consistent visitor at the hospital, but after that night when Gavin cried in his arms, their interactions returned essentially to normal without a single conversation. Perhaps Kay just didn’t want to embarrass him. Gavin supposed he should be thankful.

The cigarette lit beautifully and Gavin gave it a few careful puffs before filling his lungs.

Bad idea.

He pulled it from his mouth, already coughing up smoke and spit, and clung to the hood of the car in pain. Muscles that had actually begun to heal in the past couple days wrenched and strained all over again. He coughed until the blood pooled in his face and he was certain his eyeballs would pop.

The car door opened and shut and Kay came to rub his back. “I told you as much,” he said.

“Shut the— _phck_ —” Gavin didn’t finish, overcome with more coughing. When he could breathe, he lifted the cigarette to his mouth a second time and went to relight it. “Just gotta get used to it again, that’s all.”

Kay closed his eyes and heaved a manufactured sigh. “Is there nothing I can do to convince you to abandon this habit for good? Need I remind you, it’s smoking that doubled your hospital stay.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Gavin lowered the cigarette and stared at it, knowing Kay was right. He drummed at the pack in his coat. “I just spent like fifteen bucks on these. What do you want me to do, just throw them away?”

“I can pay you back for them.”

Gavin snorted. “With what money? Plastics aren’t getting paychecks yet.”

Kay frowned and for a moment Gavin thought he might give up and return to the car. Instead, he squared his shoulders and adjusted the cuffs of his dress shirt. “I would be willing to pay with a different currency.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

Kay motioned to the nearest trash receptacle on the sidewalk. “Dispose of the first cigarette and you will find out.”

Gavin didn’t trust this at all, but his curiosity got the better of him. “I guess I can spare one.” He approached the trash bin with Kay hot on his heels and crushed his lit cigarette on the metal rim before flicking it unceremoniously into the hole. “Ugh, what a waste.”

“I’m rather proud of you,” said Kay.

Gavin grumbled. “Whatever. So what do I get for doing that, huh?”

“Put out your hands.”

Against his better judgement, Gavin did as he was told. He ignored the way his heartbeat pounded up into his throat and he craned his neck to relieve himself. “Well? What is it?”

He thought he saw a slight uptick at the corner of Kay’s mouth. “You must close your eyes, as well,” he said. “It’s a surprise.”

Again, Gavin did as Kay ordered, though not without complaint. “I don’t like surprises.”

He expected candy maybe. Chocolates. Everyone at the precinct knew he had a sweet tooth. He definitely wasn’t expecting the unique sensation of Kay’s lips on his own.

It was a kiss. Chaste. Smooth and strangely gentle, and then it was over.

He let his eyes drift open and he swayed forward as Kay pulled back, missing the feeling already.

“What do you say, Detective Reed? Do you accept this method of payment?”  

Gavin dug frantically for the pack in his coat and produced another cigarette. He held Kay’s expectant stare and dropped it into the trash can. “Do I get another for that one?”

“Yes,” said Kay. He smiled, cupped Gavin’s unshaven jaw, and leaned down to kiss him once more.

Gavin considered the rest of the pack. Ten left.

He tossed in a third. “And for that one too?”

“Of course,” said Kay, and kissed him sweetly.

Nine left. Gavin wet his lips and hoped he wasn’t blushing too hard. He was light-headed, giddy and rushing with endorphins. He felt better than he had all week. All _month_ maybe, if not longer. Maybe he didn't need the cigarettes.

Maybe he just needed Kay.

So fuck it.

He threw them all in.


End file.
